


The Curse of the Queen's Ranger

by smilebackwards



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 20:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilebackwards/pseuds/smilebackwards
Summary: Caleb needs a ship. A boat. A goddamn dinghy. He sprints for the harbor. Every moment lost is another mile between him and Ben.





	The Curse of the Queen's Ranger

“For me?” Ben smiles when Caleb comes up to the the governor’s mansion with the sword his father ordered for Ben’s birthday. 

Caleb nods. He’d made it for Ben specially, and not just because of the commission. Caleb has made all of them, all the dozens of swords in his workshop, all the ones that sold to commodores and admirals—they were all for Ben. 

“Of course, Captain Tallmadge,” Caleb says, because he’s a blacksmith and Ben’s a captain and the governor’s son besides and even if he weren’t, just looking at the blue of Ben’s eyes, Caleb doesn’t know if he could ever say the rest of it.

“Caleb,” Ben says, with exasperated fondness, “how many times must I ask you to call me Ben?”

Caleb watches Ben cut through the air with the blade, the sword a perfect extension of his arm. He looks beautiful with it. He looks beautiful.

Caleb clears his throat. “At least once more,” he says. “As always.”

-

The pirates of the _Queen’s Ranger_ slice through Setauket like butter. 

The deck of the ship sways gently beneath Ben’s boots. He wrenches his shoulders out from beneath his captors’ hands. “Captain Rogers,” Ben says, with dignity. “I’m here to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against Setauket.”

Rogers tips his head, amused. “And what would you offer me in exchange?”

Ben can see the city burning from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t turn to look. 

Ben slips the medallion from around his neck. It’s cold as ice in his hand, unnatural. He knows it for something important, but he’d trade anything for his father’s safety. For Caleb’s. “This.”

Rogers loses his smile. “What’s your name, boy?” he asks.

Ben can’t give them the leverage of being the governor’s son. “Benjamin Brewster,” he says instead, with barely a pause. It comes out easily, like he’s thought it before.

It’s a mistake, although Ben isn’t sure quite why. A ripple goes through the crew. _Brewster. Lucas._

“Brewster,” Rogers repeats, a meaning behind the word that Ben can’t quite grasp. “You have yourself a deal.”

Ben can feel the trap closing around him, but it’s his only chance. He puts the coin in Rogers’ hand.

-

Caleb needs a ship. A boat. A goddamn dinghy. He sprints for the harbor. Every moment lost is another mile between him and Ben.

Most of the vessels have taken heavy damage from the _Queen’s Ranger’s_ assault, splintered and listing. There’s a schooner newly berthed at the most intact dock. The crew stare up at the scorched town as they unload sacks of coffee. “That’s the last of it, Captain Townsend,” one man says.

“Fine work, gentlemen,” Townsend says, marking something in a leather bound journal.

Caleb approaches him. “Captain, I’d like to book passage.”

“This is a strictly merchant vessel,” Townsend says blandly. “We don’t take on passengers.”

“Neither does the _Queen’s Ranger_ ,” Caleb says, bitter, “but they took my friend Ben.”

“The _Queen’s Ranger_?” Townsend says, sudden emotion in his voice. He looks at the rubble of Setauket with new comprehension, with recognition. “Robert Rogers did this?”

“Aye,” Caleb nods. “I don’t intend to let him get away scot-free.”

Some of the fervor fades from Townsend’s eyes. He sweeps Caleb with a skeptical glance. “And what do you propose to do if you catch him?” 

Caleb opens his coat to reveal a sword on each hip, a pistol against his thigh, and his tomahawk, just in case.

The corner of Townsend’s lip twitches. “Very well, sir,” he says. “I shall be your conveyance.”

-

“This is perhaps the moment other men might choose to turn back,” Townsend says, five days later.

Caleb holds the ship’s wheel steady. It’s been fighting him for hours, since the storm set in, the rain lashing down like whips. Most of the crew has gone below to escape it.

The last time Caleb was out on the open ocean during a storm like this was during his crossing from England. The whole ship had gone down and Caleb had woken, gasping, on the deck of the _Dragoon_ with Ben hovering over him.

“It’s all right,” Ben had said, helping Caleb turn so he could cough up seawater, and Caleb had believed him.

Caleb won’t be turning back to Setauket until Ben’s at his side again. If he can’t save Ben, there’s nothing left for him there.

When Caleb was twelve, his Uncle Lucas sent him a package. Caleb had cut the twine and unwrapped the brown oilskin to find a grinning golden coin and a battered compass. His mother, who’d always known north unfailingly, without benefit of compass or guide, had taken the compass into her cupped hands and frowned as the needle swung south-southwest. “I don’t think it works, darling,” she’d said. 

Caleb kept it anyway.

He lost the coin to the bottom of the Atlantic on the crossing but Caleb still has the compass. He’s heard the stories in Tortuga: a ship of pirates that found cursed gold, a blood debt to be paid, a wayward compass that points to their hidden port at Isla de Muerta. 

Caleb flips the compass open and minutely adjusts course. Since he arrived in Setauket, the needle has only ever pointed east. When Caleb squints into the horizon, he thinks he can see the dark shape of an island. 

“No need to turn back,” he tells Townsend. “I’m right where I need to be.”

-

The Isla de Muerta is a dark spit of land with caverns full of treasure. Rogers and his men walk uncaring across rubies and pearls, silver coins and missionary crosses, as if they were sand. 

Atop a pile of cups and candlesticks and crowns is a stone chest, its hinges open to reveal 881 gold Aztec coins, each a perfect match for the one Ben took from Caleb on the _Dragoon_ so he wouldn’t be hung for a pirate.

Rogers pulls out a knife. 

Ben can’t die here. He hasn’t told Caleb goodbye. He hasn’t told Caleb anything.

“Begun by blood. By blood undone,” Rogers says, dramatically. He puts the coin in Ben’s hand and cuts across his palm. Ben watches his blood seep into the ridges, into the grinning mouth of the skull, before Rogers drops the coin to join its brothers.

It’s not going to work. Ben doesn’t have Brewster blood, has nothing to repay.

Rogers breathes in deeply. The rest of the crew look between each other. “Did it work? Is the curse lifted?”

Rogers unholsters his pistol in one smooth motion and shoots a crewman in the heart. The crewman blinks in surprise, staring down at his chest.

“You’re not dead,” the man next to him points out.

“No,” the crewman says, happily. His smile soon drops away. They’ll still be skeletons in the moonlight, the cursed undead. “It didn’t work.” The rest of the crew begins to mutter angrily among themselves.

Rogers grabs Ben by his collar, dangling the bloody medallion in front of his eyes. “Boy, are you the blood of Lucas Brewster?’

“No,” Ben says, truthfully. It’s not his fault they didn’t ask sooner.

Rogers grips him tighter. “Where is he? Where’s the child who crossed from England?”

Ben smiles meanly. He’ll never give up Caleb. 

Rogers spits at his feet and tosses Ben and the failed coin away down the pile of treasure. Ben’s elbow impacts a gold serving platter remarkably similar to one he remembers from a dinner at General Washington’s estate as he tumbles to a stop.

Ben’s head is spinning. For a moment, he thinks he’s hallucinating when Caleb appears suddenly in front of him, a bandana tied around his head and a pistol in his hand. 

“Ben,” Caleb whispers, his voice almost lost below the loud imprecations the crew are throwing at Rogers. “We have to get out of here.”

Ben doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the coin with one hand and Caleb’s free hand with the other. 

-

Ben’s alive.

Caleb had tried not to let himself consider otherwise but Robert Rogers has never been known for mercy. Seeing Ben whole and at his side is the only possible salve to the worry Caleb’s been plagued by.

Still, he’s been kidnapped and bloodied, and that can’t go unanswered. Caleb removes his bandana and takes Ben’s hand, turning it palm up, so he can wrap the cut that Rogers inflicted. He’ll visit Ben’s pain on Rogers a thousandfold.

Ben smiles, crooked. “It’s all right, Caleb,” he says. “But thank you.”

“There’s a boat anchored off the south side of the island,” Caleb says. “It’s captained by a man named Townsend. He’ll take you to safety.”

“Me?” Ben says. “What about you?”

Caleb cocks his pistol. “I’m going to make Robert Rogers sorry for the things he’s done. To you, to my Uncle Lucas, and to Setauket.” 

Ben reaches to Caleb’s hip and takes one of his swords. The one Caleb made him with the golden pommel and blue leather grip shot through with gold filigree. Caleb had found it abandoned on the doorstep of the governor’s mansion and picked it up with careful hands before he’d sprinted for the docks. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ben says. “But there’s something we’ll need to do first.” He presses the gold coin into Caleb’s hand. “I took this from around your neck the night we found you shipwrecked on the ocean. I was afraid someone would see it and accuse you of being a pirate. If we don’t use it to break the curse, nothing we do will be able to hurt them.”

Caleb looks at the mocking grin of the skull. “Well then,” he says, letting his sword bite into his palm and the blood drip. “Let’s do this right.”

-

Caleb doesn’t like the idea of using Ben for bait but they don’t have much else by way of distraction. Rogers wants Caleb’s name and Ben’s the only one he knows can give it to him. Three different sets of angry pirates have run past the recess Ben and Caleb have tucked themselves away in, searching for Ben. 

“You don’t have to do this, Ben,” Caleb says, one more time. But Ben’s always been stubborn. And Caleb’s always loved him for it.

“It’ll be fine, Caleb,” Ben says. He puts a hand on Caleb’s wrist. “Rogers won’t kill me until he has what he wants from me.” 

Caleb hopes Ben doesn’t think that was reassuring. He clenches the coin tightly in his fist as Ben steps out of hiding. 

Ben is a beauty to behold with a sword but the pirates feel no pain, no fatigue, and Ben is outnumbered five to one. Caleb forces himself to stay hidden while they drag Ben away, back to Rogers. He picks his way carefully to the main cavern and climbs the pile of treasure to the chest of cursed gold at the top. 

Rogers knocks Ben to the ground and stands over him, pressing the tip of his sword to the pulse of Ben’s neck. “Give me the name, boy,” Rogers growls.

Caleb tosses the bloodied coin into the chest. “The name’s Caleb Brewster, asshole,” he says, and shoots Rogers in his suddenly re-beating heart.

Rogers looks at the blood blooming from his chest in awe before he collapses to the ground. The rest of the remaining pirates freeze, staring at Rogers’ blood and the smoke curling up from the muzzle of Caleb’s pistol. Breaking the curse has its drawbacks as well as benefits. Caleb winks and the pirates turn to flee, shoving each other aside in their haste.

Caleb skids down the pile of treasure, slipping on bullion and jewels, to get to Ben. “Are you all right?”

Ben smiles. He reaches up a hand to let Caleb help pull him to his feet. “I’m fine.”

Caleb lets go of the warmth of Ben’s hand to find that his own hands are shaking. “Ben,” he says, pressing a palm against Ben’s neck, to the vulnerable jump of his pulse where Rogers might have opened his throat. 

Their faces are very close together. “Caleb,” Ben breathes softly. 

Caleb kisses him. He moves his hands up to cup Ben’s face and he can feel Ben start to smile. Caleb kisses him harder, until Ben’s fingers clench in Caleb’s shirt and they’re both gasping, breathless.

“You’ve called me Ben quite a lot today,” Ben teases. “If I’d know that all it would take was being abducted by pirates, I’d have gotten myself kidnapped ages ago.”

“Hilarious,” Caleb drawls. He takes Ben’s hand and laces their fingers together. “Come on, Tallmadge. Let’s go home.”

  



End file.
